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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26666236">help yourself, to hell with the rest (even the one who loves you best)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat/pseuds/ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat'>ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wash Away the Rain (Winter Soldier AU) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>"deceit and janus are framed as two separate people fighting for control, (mild though), (one sentence that's all but still tagging it), Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Deceit is the Winter Soldier, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Near-drowning experience, Non-Graphic Violence, Swearing, Team Let Virgil Say Fuck, The Duke is also the Winter Soldier, Winter Soldier AU, and roman has like one line sorry i promise he'll get more screentime, even though technically they're the same person", eventually, i don't know how to tag it but there's some, i promise this isn't as dark as the tags make it sound i just like to be extra safe ok?, i want that to become a tag y'all, is that even a tag?, it's just how janus views "who he was" vs "who he's become", it's not meant to be dissociative identity disorder, kind of, remus is really just there in the beginning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:08:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26666236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat/pseuds/ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn’t quite put a finger on when he stopped being Deceit and started being Janus again. It hadn’t been a sudden switch. Nobody had reached into his brain and turned the lights on all at once. They’d tried to do the opposite, in fact. Following his disastrous failure at Virgil’s lab, they had immediately set about reprogramming him. Trying to restore him to factory default, as it were. They’d said the words- those damn words- and he was theirs again. </p><p>But it didn’t last long. </p><p>(or: Janus snoops, Virgil worries, Patton just wants to be helpful, and Roman is enjoying Aladdin too much to care.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wash Away the Rain (Winter Soldier AU) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>help yourself, to hell with the rest (even the one who loves you best)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi friends. This is a direct continuation of Part 1, so if you haven't read that yet, this will not make much sense. </p><p>Please check the tags. This story involves discussion of missing/untrustworthy memories, implied torture and brainwashing, and just general Dealing With Trauma stuff. Feel free to ask for more details if a particular tag worries you. </p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He couldn’t quite put a finger on when he stopped being Deceit and started being Janus again. It hadn’t been a sudden switch. Nobody had reached into his brain and turned the lights on all at once. They’d tried to do the opposite, in fact. Following his disastrous failure at Virgil’s lab, they had immediately set about reprogramming him. Trying to restore him to factory default, as it were. They’d said the words- those damn words- and he was theirs again. </p><p>But it didn’t last long. </p><p>There was something in the back of Deceit’s mind- and that something was Janus, or at least the shattered bits of Janus that had managed to knit themselves back together just long enough to recall the name Virgil- that simply would not shut up. It was like static, a flurry of incomprehensible noise that just grew and grew and grew and grew until Deceit could take it no longer, and he bashed his head into the wall until the noise stopped completely. </p><p>When he woke up again, he wasn’t Deceit. He wasn’t Janus yet, either. What he was, however, was afraid. And Deceit didn’t feel fear. </p><p>He recognized his surroundings at least. He was in the medical ward, laying unrestrained atop a cold, hard operating table because there wasn’t much in the way of “soft” and “comforting” in the headquarters. A number of voices spoke in hushed whispers across the room, and he caught a few words like “malfunctioning” and “evaluation” and “terminate.” And that was when the fear kicked into high gear and he was up and running before he even realized what he was doing. Shouts echoed through the hallway behind him- far enough behind him, he hoped- as he ran blindly. He didn’t know where he was going. Just… somewhere. Anywhere. </p><p>Anywhere but here. </p><p>The part of him that was Janus gently urged the part of him that was Deceit to lead him to the exit. <em> Just another mission, </em> it said, and Deceit obeyed. Deceit led him toward the exit, a single lonesome door at the end of a long hallway. The headquarters was like a maze, intentionally so, and more than once he was forced to alter course when the shouting and the footsteps grew too loud for his comfort.</p><p><em> Stay hidden</em>, Janus whispered to Deceit. <em> Don't let them find you. You’ll fail the mission. </em></p><p>Deceit obeyed. Clinging to the shadows as he had been taught to do, moving in silence like a ghost, Deceit obeyed. Until finally he reached that long hall, with his goal sitting triumphantly at its end. </p><p>The Duke stood in the exact middle of that hall. </p><p>“Hey, DeeDee. They said you’re makin’ a run for it. How fun.”</p><p>The Duke did not sound like he was having fun. More than anything, he sounded bored. He stood in a relaxed stance, idly examining his ragged fingernails. His weapon of choice, a literal goddamn morningstar, sat carelessly at his feet as if he couldn’t even be bothered to hold it while he waited.</p><p>“I am on a mission,” Deceit answered cooly, because that’s what Janus had told him to say. The Duke seemed to brighten at those words. He leaned down to grab his weapon, hefting it up to rest on his shoulder. </p><p>“Really? Oh goodie, I know you love it when you get to work. What is it this time? A politician? A school teacher? A whole family, even the kids?”</p><p>“You’re in my way.”</p><p>The Duke watched him as he approached, not unlike a cat watches a mouse. Deceit knew that look, but he was not used to being the mouse. </p><p>“You know,” the Duke said just as maybe-Deceit-maybe-Janus reached him, and began carefully edging past in the narrow confines of the hallway. “I’m on a mission, too.”</p><p>He was speaking slowly. Too slowly. Too restrained. Deceit cast him a glance over his shoulder, even while Janus screamed <em> just go, you’re thirty feet away, you're so close</em>. The Duke was grinning at him, wide and toothy, but it did not reach his eyes. Deceit shoved Janus down for a moment. </p><p>“Oh?” the inquiry only seemed to delight the Duke further, and he took a step toward Deceit. </p><p>“Yup!” he exclaimed, popping the ‘p’. “I get to kill you!”</p><p>Janus was fast. The Duke was faster. </p><p>The first blow fell, and Deceit disappeared somewhere into the back of Janus’ mind. </p><p>- - -</p><p>Janus sat at the edge of the bed, with a bag of frozen peas pressed against the left side of his face (because, according to Virgil, his face looked “like it got run over by a truck” and he “needed to get the swelling down” or whatever.) Two pairs of eyes looked down at him. He refused to meet either pair. </p><p>“So, uh. Patton, Janus. Janus, Patton.” Virgil was saying. “Look, Logan and I have to go to the university, and uh, honestly Janus, I’m pretty sure you’ve got a concussion or something, I probably shouldn’t have let you sleep for so long. Patton and Roman are gonna keep an eye on you for a few hours. Can you promise not to run off or get into trouble for that long?”</p><p>“I’m not a child,” Janus snapped. He still wasn’t looking at them. </p><p>“Yeah, sure,” Virgil huffed. “You’re just acting like one, that’s all.”</p><p>“Alright, now Virgil, Logan’s probably already in the car, and you don’t want to keep him waiting, do you?”</p><p>Virgil sighed deeply, and mumbled something that sounded vaguely like agreement to Patton’s words. There was some shuffling about, the sounds of papers being shoved into a backpack, then footsteps, until finally, there was only one pair of eyes on him.</p><p>Janus refused to look up. Patton started talking.</p><p>“Hey there, ki- um, I mean. Hey there, big guy! It’s great to finally meet you, Virgil’s told us so much about you!”</p><p>The voice was overly-cheerful, like the blazing heat of the sun at the height of summer. Somewhere inside him, Deceit recoiled from it. Janus, however, was surprised to find he didn’t mind it. He didn’t respond, but he did, finally, look up.</p><p>Roommate Number One, or “Patton”, was beaming down at him. From the way his eyes crinkled behind the thick frames of his glasses, Janus figured he smiled like this often. He wore a bright sky-blue shirt under a grey knitted sweater vest, which would make a lot of people look pretentious, but on him just looked soft. Janus’ frown deepened. </p><p>The silence stretched to just short of awkward before Patton tried again. “Hey, so, you’re welcome to come out and sit on the couch if you want. Roman and I were gonna cook lunch, and then maybe watch a movie. If you’re hungry, we can get you something to eat, too.”</p><p>Janus’ stomach churned at the mere thought of eating right now. He shook his head. Patton seemed to brighten even further at receiving any sort of interaction whatsoever. </p><p>“Oh! That’s ok, you don’t have to try eating yet. I’ll bet you probably aren’t feeling all that awesome right now, huh? That’s ok. Maybe just try drinking some water for now? We also have tea if you want to try something warm?”</p><p>Janus grit his teeth. He didn’t want anything except to be left alone. The last thing he could ever want was to be coddled, treated like he was weak just because he was injured. It was humiliating- to Janus, and to Deceit. </p><p>“Just water,” Janus said, when it became clear Patton wasn’t going to leave without some sort of answer. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Please.”</p><p>It seemed that any form of verbal engagement, even three terse words, was enough to utterly delight Patton. He bounced a bit on the balls of his feet. Janus was reminded vaguely of a golden retriever. </p><p>“That’s great!” Patton said encouragingly, as if Janus had just shown off an A+ test score. “I’ll be right back!”</p><p>Then he darted off, and Janus had only just fully registered he was gone before he was back with a full glass of water in hand. There were droplets of water on his fingers, spilled in his haste. Janus accepted the offered glass with a nod, but said nothing. This time, the silence did reach awkwardness before Patton cleared his throat.</p><p>“Well, um… I’m gonna go help Roman with lunch, okay? We’re just in the next room though, so holler if you need anything!”</p><p>Janus managed another nod, earning him another of those beaming smiles in return, before Patton left him alone again. He closed the door on his way out, and Janus breathed a sigh of relief. </p><p>“This was a mistake,” he said out loud to himself. His throat hurt, so he drank some of the water. It was cool and soothing, so he drank it all. Then he sat alone in the silence of Virgil’s bedroom.</p><p>The logical thing to do was rest, perhaps tend to his injuries, and make a plan. The longer he stayed, the more likely it was he would be found out by the others. And the longer he stayed in one place, the more likely it was that <em> they </em> would find him.</p><p>Would they terminate the entire household, or just him?</p><p>Janus didn’t want to think about that. And, looking around the room, he couldn’t help but admit to himself that he was more than a little curious. So he spent the entirety of the next hour meticulously searching every inch of Virgil’s room. </p><p>He found Virgil’s record collection, poked through a bookshelf filled with a mix of engineering textbooks and fantasy novels, and checked the pockets of every hoodie and jacket in the closet. He didn’t find anything of interest until he pulled a small box down from where it was tucked behind some folded blankets on the top shelf of the closet. Inside, he found a number of small trinkets, a few birthday and Christmas cards signed by names like “Patton” and “Roman” and “Logan”, and a thick envelope filled with old, yellowing photos. Janus flipped through them idly. It was more for something to do with his hands than anything else, but he froze on one particular photograph when he found his own eyes staring back at him.</p><p>He was smiling, in the photo, and stood with an arm slung around a disgruntled-looking Virgil. They were younger here, eyes bright, and no sign of the heavy weights they each carried with them now. It was some kind of event, judging by the crowds of people clad in rainbows and other combinations of colors scattered about; but Janus’ eyes were glued to the face that was his but was wearing an expression he could not remember ever feeling. Then a droplet hit the photo, and he realized he was crying. </p><p>- - -</p><p>“I am simply stating that the story does not seem logical,” Logan insisted for what was probably the third time since leaving the house. Virgil sighed deeply. </p><p>“I don’t know what else to say,” he answered. He paused briefly to dig through his pockets to find the lab key. “You know as much as I do. He was in here, ran away, then showed up at the door a few weeks later with some bullshit story about getting mugged.”</p><p>“Yes, I agree his mugging explanation is likely a falsehood. Based on the injures as you described them, it is unlikely that he sustained such damage in a mugging.”</p><p>Virgil finally succeeded in getting the door unlocked and held it open to Logan. The overhead lights flickered on automatically as the two of them stepped into the lab.</p><p>“Well, and that’s not the only thing,” Virgil admitted slowly. Logan glanced up from where he had begun arranging his books and laptop into their customary positions at his desk. Virgil fiddled with the hem of his hoodie.</p><p>“It’s just… Lo, you should have seen him when I tried to clean his face. He got all… like… like how I get with fireworks.”</p><p>“He went into a dissociative state?”</p><p>“Sort of? Almost? I don’t know, I just. I <em> know </em> something’s wrong,” Virgil dumped his backpack on the floor next to his own desk and collapsed into his chair. He felt exhausted, not just because he’d gotten basically no sleep last night. “He seems like a completely different person.”</p><p>“Well it <em> has </em> been ten years,” Logan pointed out. “A person can change a lot in that time. What worries me most is why he seems to have reappeared after all this time. You have not spoken to him at all?”</p><p>“No, man, he just. Dropped off the face of the planet. We argued over this stupid special-ops team that was trying to recruit him, then shit got personal and I stormed off. I, uh… I never saw him again after that.”</p><p>“I see. And you two were friends before the military, correct?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Virgil sighed. Logan was staring at him across their desks with the same intense look he got when he was playing chess. Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “We were friends since middle school. His parents died when he was sixteen, so he moved in with me and gran until we were both eighteen. Then we got out of that shitty little town as fast as we could.”</p><p>“He has no other living relatives?”</p><p>“Not that I know of. It was always just him and his parents. And they were kind of assholes to him, too. He basically lived with me and gran even before they died.”</p><p>Logan learned back in his chair and glanced at his watch. Instead of his phone, like a normal person. </p><p>“I have to go. I teach Chem 101 today,” he said before Virgil could tease him for wearing a watch. “But we will continue to discuss this afterwards.”</p><p>“Fine,” Virgil sighed. He watched as Logan gathered his lecture notes, paused to adjust his tie, then hurried out the door. Alone in the lab, Virgil let out another deep sigh.</p><p>The truth was, he agreed with Logan. Janus showing up again out of nowhere like this <em> was </em> weird. Virgil had been so sure he was dead. All he’d been able to learn was that Janus had accepted the special-ops assignment- some shady group called Project Imagination- and after that, all his records were sealed. He couldn’t even find a KIA or MIA record to confirm his suspicions. Nothing. It was like Janus simply ceased existing after that. </p><p>But then, all of a sudden, here he was. Changed, yes, but still Janus. </p><p>Virgil was not naive. He’d seen firsthand some of the fucked up shit the military did. It was why he got out as soon as he could. But he’d spent enough time in R&amp;D to know not everything was “on the up and up”, both legally and, well. Morally. Ethically. Whatever. Unethical programs were constantly being uncovered and shut down- or continued in secret- across all branches of the government. Programs where people got hurt. </p><p>Virgil had avoided discussing this possibility with the others- Patton and Roman specifically because, well, Patton was soft and Roman was idealistic- but he couldn’t convince himself it <em> wasn’t </em> a possibility that Janus had just broken away from something terrible. Logan might agree, or he might tell Virgil he was just being paranoid. But Virgil had seen in Janus’ eyes that very same haunted look that stared back at him from the mirror every damn morning. </p><p>Virgil spent the next few hours trying to distract himself by running a new round of tensile tests on Logan’s newest batch of synthetic polymer. If they could get the weight-to-strength ratio right, they could use it to house Remy’s electrical system and maybe finally start building a working prototype. Emile has several volunteer candidates ready for them, all veterans, but they couldn’t test the prosthetic designs until he and Logan solved the weight issue.</p><p>Remy and Emile showed up before Logan came back from teaching, with Starbucks in tow for the four of them, as per usual. The tensile tests yielded positive results, which made Logan very happy. With a few final adjustments, they should have a polymer with properties well within the marginal values. The four of them discussed their next presentation to the department chair, revised their schedules for the project, and spent a healthy amount of time complaining about students in their 101 classes (Logan loved teaching. Virgil loathed it.) Then, Virgil and Logan packed up, made their way out to Virgil’s beat-up old pick-up truck, and drove home. </p><p>Well. They got half-way home before Logan brought up the Janus Problem again. Virgil was kind of hoping he’d forgotten. </p><p>“Is the intention to allow your friend to stay with us for the time being?”</p><p>Virgil made a point of keeping his eyes on the road.  </p><p>“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t ask him where he’s living now. I mean, it would make the most sense to just. Take him home, right? He’s an adult, he can take care of himself.”</p><p>“But you don’t want to do that.” It wasn’t a question. Virgil’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. Logan seemed to notice, and took it as an affirmation. “Are you afraid if you do that, you won’t see him again?”</p><p>“I, uh… yeah. Yeah, I am.”</p><p>Virgil could feel Logan looking at him. Of the three of them, Logan was always the one Virgil had a hard time reading, so he didn’t even bother to glance over. Whatever expression Logan wore was likely to be incomprehensible. </p><p>Miraculously, though, whatever thoughts Logan had on the matter, he kept them to himself. Virgil breathed a soft sigh of relief as the conversation moved back toward their thesis project. </p><p>- - -</p><p>Janus put everything precisely back where he found it, except the photo. That he slid into the pocket of his borrowed sweatpants. </p><p>He tried to stay in Virgil’s room after that, he really did. But now that he was awake, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep again. And the longer he sat there, the thicker the air seemed to grow. The silence became deafening. And quickly, even the busy walls, covered with posters of bands and movies and shows he’d never heard of, could not distract him from the low thrum of fear that rose up in the back of his mind, the fear that he was trapped in here, alone, that somehow he’d backed himself into yet another corner, but this time he wouldn’t ever be able to-</p><p>Janus tore open the door with a bit more force than necessary. The panic stopped.</p><p>The hallway was also quiet, but he could hear the sounds of a movie playing in the next room. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed by this point, but Janus figured that if Virgil was back by now, he would have come into the bedroom. That meant there were only two people in the house.</p><p>His feet carried him forward while his mind was still hesitating. The hall opened up into a livingroom where an L-shaped couch sat facing a large TV, currently depicting a scene involving a small monkey and a walking carpet in a room full of sparkling treasure. On the side of the couch with a view of the hallway sat Patton. He was clutching a coffee mug tightly in both hands and gazing intently at the screen. </p><p>On the other side of the couch, the part of the L facing away from the hallway, sat another man with sandy-brown hair. He wore a bright red sweater, and sat with a blanket draped across his lap. Janus noted the wheelchair parked just off to the side of the couch. </p><p>On the TV, the monkey greedily plucked a shining gem from atop a mound of gold and everything began to shake. It was then that Patton noticed him.</p><p>“Hey, it’s good to see you!” he exclaimed, turning slightly so he could give Janus a wide smile. “Did you wanna sit with us? We can start the movie over if you want.” </p><p>“Is that our very own Midnight Special?” asked the man in the red sweater. He turned around, and Janus’ blood ran cold. </p><p>“H-how?” Janus breathed, taking a step back. “How did you find me?” </p><p>Confusion marred the Duke’s features, an uncharacteristic expression. He turned to look at Patton, then looked back toward Janus.</p><p>But Janus was already gone.</p><p>He almost ran into the front door in his frenzied rush down the hall to the opposite end of the house. It took him a moment to get the door open- why wasn’t the Duke pursuing? The only thing following was his own name, shouted in what sounded like Patton’s voice- but when he did, he was out like a shot. </p><p>Or, he would have been, had he not collided full-bodied with Virgil.</p><p>“Jesus fucking Christ, man, what the hell?” Virgil spat above the sound of keys and a half-full coffee cup hitting the ground. But Janus didn’t hear him. Because standing behind Virgil, wearing a look of confusion and concern, was the second target of Deceit’s last mission. </p><p>Janus reeled back, and Deceit took over. He retreated deeper into the house, while keeping a wary eye out for the Duke, unsure if he was an ally or an enemy at this particular moment. But he did know he needed a weapon. He was injured, and he did not have the element of surprise he typically operated with.</p><p>Deceit moved toward the kitchen he had seen beyond the livingroom, where he knew he would be most likely to find a weapon.</p><p>Why had his handlers failed to arm him? Or was this a test of some sort?</p><p>He passed two civilians in the livingroom. One was helping the other off the couch and into a wheelchair. Strange, hadn’t the Duke just been in this room?</p><p>No matter. He heard a shout behind him. He moved into the kitchen and easily chose an appropriate knife from the full block sitting out on the counter. Behind him, he heard a startled voice exclaim, “Janus, what the fuck?”</p><p>What was he doing? Deceit hesitated. But then he turned, and he saw his target coming down the hall behind Virgil- <em> Virgil?</em>- and he remembered his objective.</p><p>Armed now, Deceit formulated a plan even as he stalked toward his target. Sweep out Virgil’s legs, sidestep, two quick and precise cuts, then a clear shot to the door. He moved in on Virgil, measuring his own steps so that as he came within range, he merely had to catch his ankle with his own and topple him forward.</p><p>Except Virgil didn’t go down. He kept his base, and used Deceit’s unbalanced momentum to slam him into the wall with a force that knocked the breath out of his lungs. </p><p>“I taught you that move, asshole,” Virgil growled. And before Deceit could squirm out of his hold, Virgil aimed an uppercut straight into Deceit’s wounded side. The pain made his brain stutter. Darkness clawed at the edges of his vision, but he fought through it. </p><p>Then the second blow dropped him to his knees, and he did not try to get back up.</p><p>- - -</p><p>Janus never felt like he was weird when he was a kid. Sure, the other kids called him that, but Janus knew they were just jealous they weren’t fast enough to catch frogs and were too chicken to catch snakes. Sure, it got kind of lonely having no one to play with, but that was fine.</p><p>It wasn’t until he got a bit older that he started hearing the venom in his peers’ voices as their words shifted into things with more bite than bark. So he bit back too, spitting words he knew would hurt them more than theirs could ever hurt him. Lashing out, sometimes preemptively and sometimes with more ferocity than was warranted; all out of self-preservation.</p><p>He spent a lot of time alone. Trying to convince himself he wasn’t lonely. It didn’t work. But he kept trying. </p><p>He was twelve when he met his best friend. </p><p>Janus liked the woods behind the school, because everyone was too afraid to go in them. He could go there when he was out of barbed words, because there was no need for him to defend himself from the trees and the bugs and the birds. They just let him be. </p><p>He was wading in the river shallows, flipping over flat rocks and watching the tiny glimmering fish gathered beneath them go scattering off. It was getting late, the sun just starting to dip down below the horizon, but Janus was in no rush to get home. His parents never seemed to care where he was or how late he was out. If anything, they almost seemed to prefer when he <em> wasn’t </em> there. So he stayed in the woods even as the shadows grew deeper around him.</p><p>Janus had just uprooted a particularly large and satisfying rock and tossed it some distance down the river, when he heard an alarmingly loud splash that most definitely could not have been his rock. He peered upstream with a frown, though more curious than wary. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the sight of a dark form being dragged along by the strong current of the central river. He blinked, and as the struggling form came closer, he realized it was a boy. </p><p>It was a small boy, certainly not a day older than Janus himself, his limbs flailing uselessly against the water that fought to drag him down by his oversized hoodie. The current was strong, but not <em> that </em> strong; anyone who could swim would probably be fine, but Janus guessed by the panic in the boy’s eyes- nevermind the ridiculous flailing- that he did not, in fact, know how to swim.</p><p>Then, the river dragged the boy under.</p><p>Janus tore off his own jacket and threw it toward the river bank. Then without a second glance, he dove in after the boy. He swam out to the middle of the river and pulled the boy back above the water’s surface.</p><p>“Hold on,” Janus instructed above the sound of the boy’s coughing and sputtering; it took a moment for the boy to register Janus’ words, but he did, and soon he was clinging to Janus with what felt like every ounce of strength he had in him.</p><p>The current carried the both of them a short distance downstream before the river widened out and the waters calmed. Janus maneuvered them into the shallows, and dumped the boy unceremoniously onto the muddy bank. </p><p>“There. If you fall in again, I am not jumping back in after you,” Janus grumbled. He stood and began wringing water out of his shirt as best he could manage. The boy just blinked owlishly up at him, from where he sat in the mud. Janus scowled. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>That made the boy flinch, but it seemed to break whatever kind of trance he had been in.</p><p>“Uh… thanks.”</p><p>“Whatever,” Janus mumbled. “What are you even doing out here?”</p><p>The boy stood up. His sopping hair clung to his forehead. He looked vaguely embarrassed. </p><p>“Nothing. It’s stupid.”</p><p>Janus shrugged. He didn’t really care.</p><p>“Fine. Bye.”</p><p>A look of sheer panic crossed the boy’s features as Janus turned and started off, and he darted forward to grab at Janus’ sleeve.</p><p>“Wait!”</p><p>Janus stopped. He gave a pointed look to where the boy’s hand was grasping his sleeve. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Um… I, uh. I don’t know how to get back home.” The boy at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed, though he didn’t let go of Janus’ sleeve. Janus sighed deeply. </p><p>“Fine. I was going to head back anyway,” he muttered. “I guess you can come.”</p><p>The boy brightened at that, and though he still looked a bit anxious, he at least let go of Janus’ sleeve. Janus started walking again, and the boy fell in step beside him.</p><p>“I’m Virgil,” the boy offered quietly. Janus glanced at him, and for a moment, said nothing. </p><p>Then, just as quietly, he said, “My name is Janus.” </p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr @threecrowsinatrenchcoat, please come and yell with me/at me.</p><p>I wrote this in between stressing and panicking about school stuff. This semester is absolutely kicking my ass. I'm not sure when writing fic became a coping mechanism but apparently it has. And I just really love Janus, ok? </p><p>A few fun facts: Virgil is a robotics/autonomous systems engineer because that's my major, and the thesis project he's working on is actually something I'd like to research in the future if I ever have the opportunity to pursue a doctorate. Logan is a materials engineer because that is my secondary focus/possible masters program if I manage to not wreck my undergrad GPA trying to learn in this pandemic. Remy is an electrical systems engineer and Emile is some kind of biomedical engineer/psychology double major, and I know absolutely zero about any of those subjects. </p><p>I love the idea of Virgil actually being really good at martial arts/hand to hand combat cause like. Fight or flight, right? I practice martial arts myself and it honestly is something that helps so much with my own anxiety. So I may or may not be heavily projecting onto Virgil in this ha ha. </p><p>Also, there will be no explanation as to why Roman uses a wheelchair. Disabled people exist and it doesn't always have to be a plot point. (And if you think it stops him from being a dramatic theatre kid, well, you would be very wrong.)</p><p>Part 3 is coming. No idea when, but it's coming. </p><p>The title is from "When the Chips Are Down", from Janus' playlist. I really need to actually sit down and listen to the whole Hadestown soundtrack.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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